In tenebris vitae
by Capitano
Summary: Tom's dead but Allan don't resigned himself to that fate and he will do everything to have him back, violating the fine limits of the good and the evil.


Hello everybody! I want to dedicate this fan fiction to everyone who helped me with my story, everyone who sent me their review and their encouragements. Well, I don't expect to write stories so wonderful and amazing and touching like some writers, but, however, I hope that you like it... because this is for you !!!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**IN TENEBRIS VITAE**

" _Quo dolore contenebratum est cor meum_ " (** Augustine **)

**Charter 1: **

Everything was silent.

Feebly the light got into a small room. It was very damp and cold and a sinistre atmosfere invaded it, with his taste of despair, anguish and death.

Through a fine crack which starter from the ceiling and descended like a lightning, it was possible to see the earth covered with a dark cloak, while the thick layer of clouds imperceptibly dissolved, leaving the timid light of the daybreak free to open in an explotion of sparkling colours on a sky painted by a bright pink and a limpid light blue.

Sitting with the back leaned against the wall was Allan Quatermain. He had the whole right arm and a part of his side completely soaking of blood owing to a wound, a horrible injury that he'd not cured. His head was lowered but the part of his face which was not hidden by the hat was crossed by deep furrows left by the continual tears. It was a hard mask, as he was fighting against himself to suppress the pain that was destroing him from inside, a fire in his soul that he didn't succeed to put out.

Quatermain looked at the pale young man lying on the ground beside him, in a pool of blood, with his head on his lap. He looked like he was sleeping, with the eyes closed, the expression so serene and peaceful and his delicate features so gentle.

He felt his heart being squashed.

He shouldn't have wanted that life for him.

The boy seemed so young... too young for that hellishly work, always living and fighting against the worst dregs who existed on the face of the earth, against the world with his load of misfortunes and troubles.

Allan had watched over Tom all night long, silent and motionless, going on fonding him with care and infinite tenderness, between the terror and the despair which, like poisoned thorns, killed his soul and made it bleeding with atrocious pain and dreadful aches.

He knew that in the neighbourhood there were unscrupulous people and heartless killers who was searching them, who had killed many good men guilty only for trying to save innocentes lifes, like he'd done. It was only a matter of time before they would found them.

He was passing away drained of flood. He felt his life slide away but it didn't matter.

The thing he really cared the most, which loved like the light of his own eyes was dying in his arms.

The only comfort in which he could hope was that no one would not harm again that boy.

He had no hopes anymore.

All his regrets didn't count anymore.

But suddely he heard a confused sound of voices which, from faint and distant became more loud and nearer. They came from outside and from inside the building. They were everywhere.

" They couldn't be dead! Go on with searching them! "

Allan closet his eyes, feeling terribile.

It was really over!

Allan gazed at the young with a look overwhelmed with sadness. He worked hard to protect him, he had given himself heart and soul to save him but he had not succeeded.

He had failed.

But there was still something he could do for him.

He would drag to the Hell as many bastards as he could.

He looked at his right arm. He couldn't move it. It was like it wasn't a part of his body anymore.

The voices were approaching.

Slowly he leaned out toward the rifle and clutched it.

Now they were behind the door.

Just a moment of silence… and then began to hail heavy blows agains the wooden door.

_End of the way._

He loaded the weapon.

The door was going to give way. The rhythm of the blows increased in intensity while the shouting became more and more excited.

He gritted his teeth and aimed the gun.

No one would touch that boy!

_To be continued..._

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_ For this grief, my heart had been__ plunged in the darkness._


End file.
